Masquerade
by NotsoSugarQueen
Summary: The ball was a reconnoissance mission to collect information, nothing more. But the way she looked in Jessamine's dress, the white bringing out her deep gray eyes even behind the gold mask she wore made me wish, that more than anything, that she might understand. But she couldn't. After all, how can you tell someone that you love them if the price of loving you was death? R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Masquerade-**

**A.N.: so this is just an oneshot that I had the sudden urge to write. It's my second ID fanfiction, my first being ****_Golden Chains_****. Anyways, I don't really think it's been done before, so here goes! **

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned Infernal Devices and all the characters, but they belong to the lovely Cassandra Clare. The lines of conversation in this oneshot all belong to her.**

Will's PoV:

Just riding in the carriage with her was agony.

Even as Jessamine, in Jessie's white dress and pearls and gold mask, there was something about her that was so entirely _Tessa_. I could feel it.

But maybe that had something to do with the fact that I was catastrophically in love with her. Honestly, if it didn't, then her brother might notice it, even as the worthless as a mundane he was. And that would spell disaster in all capital letters.

But she didn't love me. There had been a point in time I knew otherwise, despite my half-hearted hope against it, but I had crushed any trace of affection that had existed that night at the Institute not so long ago.

And she had no idea that every time I saw her was like ripping off bandages, leaving the wound to bleed again. My heart was being ripped out of my chest because of the stupid curse, and it was killing me, staying away from her. I swallowed and looked away as I finished telling her about my occupation as the breaker of young girls' hearts, or more specifically, Tatiana's. I didn't want to see the look on her face. The only reason I'd had such a problem with Tatiana fancying me was because of the curse. And because I didn't want anyone to die, I'd had to put a stop to it, no matter what the price. And honestly, the loss of some infatuation was nothing compared to the loss of an innocent life, no matter how bad her poetry had been.

"Will?" she asked again.

I turned back to her expressionlessly, forcing my heart to stop beating unnaturally fast in my chest. "The last has another question. I can hear it in her tone. Will you never have done asking questions, Tess?" The nickname slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

"Not until I get all the answers I want," she replied. "Will, is warlocks are made by having one demon parent and one human parent, what happens if one of those parents is a Shadowhunter?"

"A Shadowhunter would never allow that to happen," I answered automatically, my voice flat. _Well, unless that parent happens to be Benedict Lightwood._

"But in the _Codex_ it says that most warlocks are the result of—of a violation," she pointed out, faltering. "Or shape-changer demons taking on the form of a loved one and completing the seduction by a trick. Jem told me Shadowhunter blood is always dominant. The _Codex_ says the off-spring of Shadowhunters and werewolves, or faeries, are always Shadowhunters. So could not the angel blood in a Shadowhunter cancel out that which was demonic and produce—"

"What is produces is nothing," I interrupted, closely examining the curtains on the carriage windows. "The child would be born dead. They always are. Stillborn, I mean. The offspring of a demon and a Shadowhunter parent is death." I glanced at her, masking my curiosity the best I could. "Why do you want to know these things?"

"I want to know what I am," she explained, sighing a little. "I believe I am some… combination that has not been seen before. Part faerie, or part—"

"Have you ever thought of transforming yourself into one of your parents?" I inquired. The idea could work. If she could get inside the mind of whatever parent she chose and go through their memories, something would show up. "Your mother or your father? It would give you access to their memories, wouldn't it?"

"I have thought of it. Of course I have. But I have nothing of my father's or mother's. Everything that was packed in my trunks for the voyage here was discarded by the Dark Sisters," she explained.

I eyed her clockwork angel, raising an eyebrow. "What about your angel necklace?" I suggested. "Wasn't that your mother's?"

She shook her head, looking slightly disappointed. "I tried. I—I could reach nothing of her in it. It has been mine so long, I think, that what made it hers has evaporated, like water."

"Perhaps you are a clockwork girl," I suggested jokingly. "Perhaps Mortmain's warlock father built you, and now Mortmain seeks the secret of how to create such a perfect facsimile of life when all he can build are hideous monstrosities. Perhaps all that beats beneath your chest is a heart made of metal."

She inhaled sharply, clearly disturbed by the idea. "No," she said, dismissing the idea. "You forget, I remember my childhood. Mechanical creatures do not change or grow. Nor would that explain my ability."

"I know," I replied, flashing her a grin. There was no way that the kind of feelings I had for her could be felt for an automaton, however beautiful or lifelike it was. "I only wanted to see if I could convince _you._"

"I am not the one who has no heart." Her voice was toneless and empty of accusation, but it still felt like I had been stabbed in the chest. I could feel the angry heat of resentment and embarrassment behind all the horrible, heartless things I had said to her rise up. I opened my mouth to say something smart and witty and entirely remorseless, but the carriage jolted to stop.

We had arrived.

**So I think this will be a brief, two or three multi-chapter story. It's an awful lot of typing up lines from Clockwork Prince, let me tell you. Anyways, I hope my interpretation of Will so far is satisfactory, and for the record, I ship Wessa like there is no tomorrow. If Will Herondale existed in real life… you bet that I would marry him. So, aside that slightly embarrassing confession of mine, I have nothing against Jessa, by the way. Please review, constructive criticism is ALWAYS appreciated. Thanks so much for reading!**

**Xoxo- NotsoSugarQueen**


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N.: Okay, so here's the second chapter. I was really pleased with the reviews that I got, so thank you all who did review. I like feeling like a story is worthwhile. I will be updating this story reasonably frequently, once every one or two weeks, since my PJO fanfiction; ****Roadtrip!**** is my main priority. And this is my first multi-chapter ID fanfiction, but even so don't be afraid to criticize. Because how else am I going to get better, right? Anyways, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned Infernal Devices and all the characters, but I don't, so that sucks.**

Will PoV

The Lightwood's estate was massive. I had seen it before, and so the magnificence did not dazzle me as it did Tessa. I could see the appreciative awe for the graceful Palladian columns and balconies and arches, the whole spectacle glistening like abalone underneath the moonlight. I inhaled, and nearly choked on the dank smell of dark witchcraft—most entirely demonic. The interior of the house appeared to be vacant, the windows dark and the lawns deserted, but I knew better.

Wards. Someone did not want us to know what was happening tonight.

"Do you smell that?" I asked. "Demonic witchcraft. Its stink is on the air."

Tessa wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Are you cerain? The house looks deadly quiet. As if no one were home. Could we be wrong?"

I shook my head. "There is powerful magic at work here. Something stronger than a glamour. A true ward. Someone very much does not want us to know what is happening here tonight." I looked at the invitation, checking to make sure it was still safely in her hand. I had a feeling we would need it to gain entry. Or, she would. I had other means of sneaking in.

I reached up to ring a bell that hung from the gates, and the sound resonated into the silence. Tessa flinched with surprise before sending me a glare. I smirked.

"_Caelum denique, _angel," I told her, before disappearing into the shadows beyond the gate. _Courage._ She would need it, I knew. I watched from a distance as she was admitted inside by the hooded doorman; not a hair out of place. I wondered if she had been able to touch Jessamine's mind yet. If I hadn't known that it was Tessa in disguise, I never would have guessed. It seemed that the doorman didn't suspect anything either.

I scanned the walls before pulling out my stele and sketching a few quick runes on my arm. Night vision, stealth and balance. I took a deep breath and tucked my gloves into my pocket, not wanting to ruin them. In a mere ten seconds, I scaled the wall and was on the other side, landing lightly on the balls of my feet.

Sure enough, the grounds were now illuminated, golden light leaking through every window, and waltz music wafting through the sets of open French doors that led out onto the balconies. I hurried forwards. Tessa was most likely already inside, and I wanted to keep a close eye on her while she was with that poor excuse of a brother. The thought of her alone with him… I shuddered.

Quietly, with the grace of a panther, I slipped inside one of the open windows on the ground floor. The room was huge, a large, glittering chandelier hung from the ceiling, and only at a second glance did I realize that it was shaped like a spider. The walls were a deep navy, with white trim, and I didn't fail to notice the silvery automatons that lined them, as if they were attempting to blend in as decorations. The _ouroboros_ blazed on their left side. I gritted my teeth at the sight of them. The air was hot and thick, and people were everywhere. Or what could be people at first glance.

Demons and faeries and vampires crowded the room, some of them dancing, some of them lounging on the couches and chairs that were clustered at designated spots in the room, chatting happily and toasting their glasses full of sparkling liquids, many of them wearing masks of all different shapes and sizes.

And then I spotted her. She entered the room, and after freezing for a second, most likely pausing to absorb the scene before her, she continued forwards, walking with a dainty stride that was unique to Jessamine. I sidled up to the wall, and grabbed a drink from a waiter, trying my best to blend in and appear like any other partygoer, all while keeping a close eye on her. Nathaniel Gray should appear soon…

He did, his hands touching Tessa's shoulders lightly. He had cleaned up since I'd last seen him near the doors of the Sanctuary. His fair hair was neatly combed, and his dress coat was spotless. He looked smug, his ego surely bloated on the fact that he was once again Mortmain's treasured lapdog.

They exchanged words, their mouths moving, and Tessa's skin—or rather, Jessamine's—was beginning to regain some of its color. I took a pretend sip of the lemonade, my eyes not leaving them.

Gray laughed, smiling at her. It was all I could do not to rush over and pummel him right there. I swallowed the tightness in my throat, clenching my jaw.

Music, a new waltz, began to play, courtesy of the orchestra, and they began to dance. Tessa must've had practice dancing before, because she fit in perfectly, step by step, with her brother. They chatted, exchanging faked looks of adoration every now and then before glancing over at the host.

Benedict Lightwood was taking no care to hide his adoration for demons, clearly. He was seated on a red sofa, with one sprawled across him, her long black hair to dark to be mundane. Twin black serpents took the place of her eyes, and one of them reached up and licked Benedict's chin. I pursed my lips. It seems that I was right, once again. It was only a matter of time before he contracted demon pox. Not that anyone else believed me when it came to the pox's existence, that is.

I turned my gaze to Tessa and Gray. They had stopped dancing, and Tessa placed a hand to her forehead, doing a good impersonation of Jessamine's dramatic complaints. Gray nodded, looking slightly displeased, before disappearing into the crowd. Tessa took a seat in one of the chairs that lined the hall.

She jumped when approached by a faerie with purple hair and webbed fingers and toes. The faerie smiled pleasantly, and leaned in closer to whisper something in her ear. Tessa swallowed, wide eyed before turning to ask the faerie something. I weaved my way through the crowd, making my way over to her.

When I got there, the faerie had disappeared, and Tessa turned to face me, evidently surprised that it wasn't her brother.

"What did that faerie woman want?" I inquired casually, discarding the glass of lemonade.

"I don't know," Tessa replied, seemingly frustrated. "To tell me that I'm _not_ a changeling, apparently."

I shrugged and offered her a grin. "Well, that's good. Process of elimination."

Tessa studied me for a moment before I continued. "And what news from your brother?"

"Jessamine's been spying for Nate all this time. I don't know how long exactly. She's been telling him everything. She thinks he's in love with her." Her gloved hands gripped the arms of the chair like they were her last chance at survival.

"Do you think he's in love with her?" I asked curiously. If anyone was going to interpret Nathaniel Gray's emotions, it was going to be Tessa. She had known him her whole life.

"I think Nate cares only about himself," she said bitterly, straightening up. "There's worse, too. Benedict Lightwood is working for Mortmain. That is why he is scheming to get the Institute. So the Magister can have it. And have _me. _Nate knows all about it of course. He doesn't care." Her gaze returned to her hands once more. It bothered me a little that she still, deep down, cared a little bit about what that bastard thought. He was worse that dirt underneath her feet, and I hated seeing the way it affected her, the lack of brotherly affection that had been a farce since the very beginning of his schemes.

"Oh Nate," she murmured. "Aunt Harried used to call him her blue-eyed boy." Her tone was sort of wistful, as if she still wished for her mundane life back in New York.

"I expect that was before he killed her," I mused, and judging from the look of surprise on her face, she hadn't meant to say it out loud. I scanned the crowd again and spotted him making his way towards her once more, two drinks again. "And there he is again," I muttered darkly, before stepping away and blending into the dancers once more.

Gray approached her and handed her one of the glasses, and Tessa took a small sip. He took a seat in the chair and reached a hand forwards to stroke the stray blond curl away from her face, saying something. Tessa replied easily, and they continued to talk. The demeanor was pleasant until Tessa must've said something that made Nate uncomfortable. His jaw tightened and his posture became stiff. Tessa amended it quickly, and the look disappeared, replaced by the self satisfied comfort once more.

He laughed and said something else, and then it happened. Tessa—or Jessamine—blanched, freezing up. My mind raced. Something, anything, to get rid of her brother.

An idea hit me, and I reached for one of the automatons, taking a piece of paper and pen and printing something down in a neat cursive that I hoped looked convincing. A wild goose chase to Vauxhall should distract him long enough for me to get Tessa out of this goddamned place. I handed it to the automaton and directed it towards Nate. It wheeled off, and sure enough, in moments, Gray tucked the letter in his pocket and said a quick goodbye to Tessa before rushing off. I let out a brief sigh of relief before walking over and taking the seat he had abandoned.

"Tessa," I said, and she looked up. "I see your brother got the note."

"Ah," she realized with a half-hearted smile. "You sent it."

"I did," I confirmed, and I stole her glass of lemonade and drained it, quenching the thirst in my throat. "I had to get him out of here. And we should probably follow suit, before he realizes the note is a falsity and he returns. Though I did direct him to Vauxhall; it'll take him ages to get there and back, so we're likely safe—" I stopped when I glanced back at her and realized that her disguise had slipped, and the Change was gone. She was back to Tessa, her hair dark and the eyes that stared through her mask were gray instead of Jessamine's chocolate brown. "Tess—Tessa? Are you all right?"

"Why do you ask?" she asked, confused. I gently grasped a curl and held it in front of her face, willing her to understand. Her eyes widened and her hands found her face.

"Oh God," she said. "How long—"

"Not long," I assured her. "You were Jessamine when I sat down." I grabbed her hand and stood, leading her through the crowd and towards the nearest exit. We needed to leave before anyone realized the difference, that the girl in white was not the same girl. I heard her gasp quietly and I turned around, just in time to catch her as she stumbled forward, clearly faint.

By the Angel, we had to get out of here.

**Tee hee, the balcony scene is next chapter! I'm eagerly awaiting it too, don't worry. Anyways, it was a bit harder to write this chapter, because of the fact that it took place mainly between Tessa and Nate, and Will was a bystander. I had to make it seem like he was observing, and fill in the gaps where Tessa and Nate were talking, since Will wasn't positioned close enough to hear what they were saying. Anyways, I made it work, and I hope you guys enjoyed it! Please review, constructive criticism is ALWAYS appreciated, and don't be afraid to check out my other stories! (by the way, I also have a Wattpad account, my username is ****hinice2meetu2****) Anyways, thanks so much for reading! Love you all!**

**Xoxo-NotsoSugarQueen**


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N.: So is this the final chapter to the short story! It will be wrapped up after this… but I'm considering writing a MI long term fanfiction… but the idea is still up for grabs in my head, so I'm not totally positive yet. Anyways, keep your eye out for my other stories, just in case you're interested. And after that… just enjoy this final update!**

**Disclaimer: No, I don't own ID, that belongs to Cassandra Clare.**

Will PoV

"Tessa?" I asked, guiding her out into the cool air. I was acutely aware of my hand on her lower back, the warmth of her skin and the overwhelming smell of lavender that made my bones scream. I wanted her to be mine.

And I wanted her enough to know that I couldn't have her.

"I'm all right," she replied, slightly out of breath. Her face was slightly pale and I swallowed. Jessamine's dress was too small on her, the hemline exposing her shoes, and the plunging neckline leaving much of her skin to the open air. Nothing that she would wear under normal circumstances. I wanted to look at her, and at the same time I didn't. It would be like getting my heart ripped out all over again.

Her gaze flicked over to me, her face still facing out into the night. "I just—I don't know what happened. That's never happened to me before, losing the Change without noticing like that. It must have been the surprise of it all. They're married, did you know that? Nate and Jessamine. Nate was never the marrying sort. And he doesn't love her. I can tell. He doesn't love anyone but himself. He never has."

I wasn't completely sure as to whether she really meant all of that, or if it was just her anger speaking, and that somewhere, deep down inside, she still felt a sliver of caring sisterly obligation towards him, regardless of what he had done to her.

"Tess," I said softly. I leaned against the railing, facing her. She was close, so close that I could hear her breathing. Her jaw snapped shut and she pursed her lips, glancing away again.

"I'm sorry," she apologized sheepishly.

I laughed a little. She was always convinced she was the problem, that it was her fault. Selfless. My chest ached.

Slowly, I reached my hand out and touched her cheek, bringing her gaze back to me. Her face, the gentle cheekbones, the pale pink lips, the pale gray eyes, it was a work of art.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," I told her honestly. "You were brilliant in there, Tessa. Not a step out of place."

She was quiet, clearly deep in thought, temporarily unreachable.

I wanted nothing more than _to_ reach her, to close the gap of space in between us and beg for her forgiveness for those horrible things I'd said and done that night, back at the Institute. But that would be selfish, and I would never forgive myself.

I continued, not waiting for her to speak. "You did love your brother once, didn't you? I could see your face as he was speaking t you, and I wanted to kill him for breaking your heart." _Hypocrite_, I thought to myself. I felt a stabbing sensation of guilt in my gut, because for all I knew, _I_ had probably broken her heart that night. I had torn it up into a million pieces and trampled it into the dust. And she had no idea how much it killed me to know it.

She let out a short breath before meeting my eyes and shrugging her shoulders slightly. "Some part of me misses him as—as you miss your sister. Even though I know what he is, I miss the brother I thought I had. He was my only family."

"The Institute is your family now," I told her, giving her a look that dared her to challenge what I said. She didn't. She just looked at me, all beauty and grace and thought and _Tessa._

"We should go back inside," she whispered after a moment of silence. "We have only a little time—" she moved forward only to stumble slightly, and I reached out to catch her. Time seemed to slow down and she looked up at me again. I drew her closer, my arms finding their way around her waist and her hands sloped up my shoulders and laced themselves neatly behind my neck. Her face was level with my collarbone, and I could feel the gentle puffs of breath that flitted across my bare skin. I felt like I was on fire.

I inhaled sharply. Tess," I said in a low voice. "Tess, look at me."

She glanced upward, dragging her gaze to meet mine. I raised my hands from around her waist, and carefully, methodically, removed Jessamine's pearl pins from her hand, letting her dark curls tumble down across her shoulders. There was silence, save for the clatter of the pins and out breathing, and I was aware of the fact that she was still looking at me. The last pin hit the floor and I carefully caressed her hair, it was soft and fine and thick to the touch, and I let out a breath I hadn't been aware of holding.

"My Tessa," I told her.

"Will," she whispered, her voice soft and nearly lost in the breeze. I removed her hands from behind my neck and pulled her gloves off slowly, tossing them on the floor to join her mask and clips. Then I reached up and removed my mask, discarding it easily. This moment felt weighted on my shoulders, incalculably important for unknown reasons. She reached up to run her fingers across the ridges left by the mask, but I caught her hands mid air.

"No," I told her slowly, swallowing. "Let me touch you first. I have wanted…" my voice trailed off, waiting for her to tell me no. But she didn't answer, instead stood there, stock still, her eyes wide and akin to mirrors as she watched. I slowly ran my fingers along her face, across her temples and cheekbones and traced her lips with my thumb. They moved on to her throat, gracing across its hollow and collarbones, gently tugging at the silk ribbon fastened around her neck, before continuing down to follow the curves of her torso, finally fastening themselves around her waist as she let out a barely audible gasp. I drew her towards me, closing the space between us, our bodies fitting together much like puzzle pieces. I leaned over and pressed my cheek to hers. Her breath fanned across my neck, and my heart thudded.

"I have wanted to do this," I told her quietly, firmly. "Every moment, of every hour, of every day that I have been with you since that day I met you. But you know that. You _must_ know. Don't you?" The words spilled from my mouth as I pulled back slightly until we were face to face.

Her mouth opened in a small O. "Know what?" she said breathlessly, and I sighed a little before leaning in and kissing her.

Her lips were soft as she kissed back. It was slow and deliberate, like we had all the time in the world to ourselves. It was nothing like our first kiss in the attic, when I'd been half delirious with holy water. She tasted like the lemonade her brother had brought her, and I pressed quick butterfly kisses to her mouth. I wished she could know how much I loved her. That I felt like I would rather die than live without her. I felt more alive than I ever had in my entire life, while kissing her, touching her, and her hands graced the back of my neck carefully in their tentative Tessa way. It reminded me of how delicate she seemed to be, how careful I should be. She was not something I would've taken pleasure in breaking.

The kiss deepened and she grasped my hair in her fingers. "Will," she whispered against my mouth. The sound of her voice sent my mind reeling, my heart pounding against my ribcage like it was going to burst out of my chest. I took a little bit of comfort in knowing that her heart was beating at the same speed, hammering against mine.

"Will, you need not be so careful. I will not break," she said again, as if to remind me.

"Tessa," I groaned in response, hesitant. Her teeth bit down lightly on my lower lip and that was all it took. My hands pulled her waist closer to me, if that was even humanly possible, and the kisses grew deeper, breathing, consuming one another, as if the world was going to end. We were against the railing now, Tessa's back firmly against it.

The doors opened behind me, and someone remarked upon how that was why they advised against drinking the sparkling pink drinks. I hardly registered them, only the sound of the door rattling shut once more.

Tess pulled back a little bit, breathing heavily. "Oh my heavens," she said. "How humiliating—"

I pulled her closer again. "I don't care," I told her, brushing it off. I nuzzled her neck gently, before pressing another kiss to her lips. "Tess—"

"You keep saying my name," she murmured. One of her hands was on his chest, and I could feel the heat of it through my shirt and jacket.

"I love your name. I love the sound of it," I told her truthfully. We were still close, kissing and speaking to each other's mouths. I felt breathless and out of sync, uncontrolled. "I have to ask you something. I have to know—"

"So _there _you two are," a familiar voice said from behind me. "And quite a spectacular display you're making, if I do say so."

We broke apart abruptly, stepping away from each other, and I turned around. Standing there, perfectly at ease, smoking a long cigar, was Magnus Bane.

I inwardly cursed his poor timing, even though I knew I shouldn't have. What I had been about to say would have changed everything between Tessa and I, permanently altering my life. I had come so close to revealing the truth about my curse to her, as close as asking her if she loved me or not.

No matter how hard I tried, it was nearly impossible for me to be selfless. I couldn't bear to let go. I loved her more than anything in the world.

And for that, I was selfish.

**So, did you like the final chappie? I decided to close it there instead of making them walk through the gardens and spot the demon Marbas and whatnot, just because it felt smoother. Writer's instinct. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did, because I love Wessa, and I especially love Will Herondale. It was kind of hard to translate this to a guy's perspective, because I am a girl, but I tried my best. I want to write another Wessa fanfiction soon from Tessa's point of view, because, I would do a lot to be her. I mean, unconditional love from the one and only Will Herondale? Please. Bring it on. Anyways, back to the important stuff. Check out some of my other stories, and keep your eye out for a possible MI fanfiction from yours truly, and again, thank you all so very much for reading. It means a lot. Love you all!**

**Xoxo- NotsoSugarQueen**


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